


Gravity

by leighthepeach



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Magic, Mild Language, Prompt Fic, Romance, basically all the things expected in fairy tail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28582413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighthepeach/pseuds/leighthepeach
Summary: There has always been a pull, an undeniable magnetism between them. No matter the distance, the time, the heartache, they are always pulled together again.A collection of moments and ficlets between Jellal Fernandes and Erza Scarlet. Each chapter is a stand alone scene.
Relationships: Jellal Fernandes/Erza Scarlet, Jerza
Kudos: 16





	1. Can't Stay Away

Want to suggest a prompt for Jellal and Erza or peruse my other works? Click here: [X  
](https://leighthepeach.tumblr.com/)Kudos and comments are very appreciated!

* * *

It happens every so often, a chance meeting, a coincidental run in. And oh how she cherishes them, seeks them out. But it has been months since Erza has seen him.

Snow falls from the sky. Large, heavy flakes that drift down with soft impacts upon the piles already building. Erza tugs the collar of her coat a bit higher, fighting off a shiver. With all the sets of armor and outfits in her arsenal, she never seems to have anything warm enough when it snows.

The moon is high and bright, the streets of Magnolia nearly deserted at so late an hour. She and the others had gotten back late from a job and the first flurries had started when they left the guild. Although her teeth chatter, she doesn’t rush. Snows like this are rare, and she has to admit the city looks beautiful this way, every street and sign and tree covered in a soft layer of white that glistens faintly.

She’s traveled a few blocks when she hears the sound of another approaching from behind. Normally it wouldn’t capture her attention, except the steps are quick, purposeful. Following, pursuing.

She slows, a small smile of anticipation curling her lips. Her follower takes it as encouragement, closing the distance in a moment.

A heavy cloak settles around her shoulders, his gloved hands sliding down her arms and up again. “A cold night to be walking alone, my dear.” His rich voice sounds by her ear, that deep timbre sending a shiver down her spine that has nothing to do with the cold. “May I escort you?”

Erza leans back against him, feeling the heat of him, the strength of his unyielding chest. “Yes,” she whispers. But despite her answer, she doesn’t take a single step.

Jellal chuckles at her reluctance, breath crystallizing in the frigid air. “Come. I’m not staying far.” Gently, her grasps one of her hands, tucks it into his elbow and pulls her along.

Snowflakes tumble around them, trapping them in a sweet silence that blots out the rest of the world as they walk. True to his word, Jellal leads her to a hotel a few blocks away, a much shorter trip than her trek to Fairy Hills would have been. He leads her through the deserted lobby, up the stairs to the second floor, and to the final door at the end of the hall. He likely requested a room as far away from the other patrons as possible, always trying to keep away from prying eyes in these brief visits.

Once inside, he closes the door behind them. A quick spell has a fire blazing in the hearth, a gentle glow illuminating the elegant room. He turns so they are facing one another and lifts gloved fingers to brush the snow from her scarlet hair. Then he grasps the edges of the cloak, lets it fall with a heavy thud to the floor. Her coat follows, her scarf. It no longer surprises her when he smoothly drops to one knee and slides off her boots one at a time. Of course, she could have requipped the clothing at any moment. But she doesn’t stop him. There’s an intimacy to having his hands discard the layers of clothing, of choosing to let him. Jellal seems to believe so as well, his palms sliding over her calf muscles, leaving a trail that burns.

He never removes it all. Once she stands in just leggings and her simple dress, he suggests quietly, “Your clothes are damp and cold. Perhaps you’d like to change.”

Only at his invitation does she switch her outfit, requipping into simple pajamas. He smiles at the outfit, perhaps because he gets to see her in such an informal state. Erza doesn’t have time to ponder long before he scoops her up into his arms and carries her to the bed. The white comforter is already turned down and she slides beneath it, curling gratefully beneath the warm sheets. Jellal watches her wordlessly a moment, lingering on the gentle lines of her body beneath the covers, the contentment on her face.

His cheeks flush in the darkness as he pulls off his shirt, his boots. This hasn’t quite become normal, although it isn’t nearly the first time he’s undressed in her presence. Erza’s own face warms with color as he slides off his jeans, quickly pulls on a pair of pajama pants from the bag on top of the dresser. But his chest remains bare as he crosses to the bed again, slips carefully beneath the covers with her.

“Let me warm you,” he murmurs. And Erza revels in the strength of his arms slipping around her, pulling her tight against him. She can feel the defined muscles of his body, hear his pulse pounding beneath her ear. She fits perfectly in his embrace, as though his arms were made to hold her. She can’t help wishing it could always be this way, that every night could be spent feeling so safe, so cherished.

Though it is late, neither of them seem willing to sleep. Jellal’s fingers thread through her hair, brushing through the damp locks, winding and unwinding strands around his fingers.

“I’ve missed you,” she says in the darkness.

His fingers freeze, heart stuttering. But there is no hesitancy when he admits, “And I, you.” Her words seem to give him courage, for his hands trail from her hair to her face, cupping her cheeks with his palms. When he tilts her face back, she can see the war in his eyes, restrained passion fighting to the forefront. Then his lips are on hers, burning and seeking and desperate. His kisses always steal her breath, so fervent, as though treasuring every second. Her arms slip around his neck, one of her hands tangling in his hair to pull him closer, keep his mouth on hers. Jellal obliges wholeheartedly, parting his lips and hers, a groan rumbling in his chest as their tongues slide and tangle.

His gasp as he breaks away is ragged, his thumbs stroking helplessly along her cheeks. “You make it impossible to stay away, Erza.”

Her smile is radiant in the darkness, “I’m not sorry.”

A smirk twitches at the corners of his lips as he moves to kiss her again, “Nor am I.”


	2. Don't Need This Like I Used To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insp: Blinded by Emmit Fenn

Want to suggest a prompt for Jellal and Erza or peruse my other works? Click here: [X  
](https://leighthepeach.tumblr.com/)Kudos and comments are very appreciated!

* * *

The armor is part of her, has been since the first time she donned a makeshift chestplate in the Tower of Heaven. Many have tried to convince her it wasn’t necessary, especially as a child. It’s too heavy for a woman, they said. Too difficult to move in. Too hot during battle.

But to Erza it was strong and safe, a place to hide even when she couldn’t run away. It was a line of defense always in place, keeping others at a distance, covering all points of weakness, and every pain that hurt and never stopped. It became an obsession, collecting an armor to fend off any enemy, a solution to every possible problem. Erza was determined to never be caught off guard again, to never leave herself unprotected.

But then one day, _he_ asks to see what is underneath.

Eyes blowing wide, Erza freezes just inside her apartment, arms crossing automatically across her chest (the most vulnerable spot). “What?” she asks him, wishing she didn’t sound so suspicious.

So guarded.

“May I remove your armor, Erza?” Jellal requests again, not having moved from his place before her. His voice is quiet, careful, but not insistent. The choice is hers and hers alone.

Erza watches him a moment, “I could just requip.”

“I know.”

The implication of the words knocks the breath from her, makes her metal-encased fingers tighten on her arms. Jellal isn’t asking to take off her armor. He’s asking to be let past it.

Slowly, slowly, her hands lower to her sides, her gaze falling to the floor timidly as she answers, “Okay.”

A single step, then two and she can feel his presence. So close she can hear each breath. Gently, Jellal takes one of her hands in his, fingertips sliding appreciatively over the gauntlet covering hers. He flips her hand, revealing the buckles at her wrist, her elbow. He loosens the straps, slides the gauntlet free and sets it aside.

Then his palm slides against hers, feeling the callouses from her training, grasping her slender fingers. Deliberately, he lifts her bare hand to his lips, presses lingering kisses to her knuckles, her wrist, and up her forearm. With each kiss, he pulls her closer, places her hand on his shoulder. Erza’s bare hand shakes against him, her chin still tucked.

“Erza,” he murmurs, coaxing.

Her eyes lift, uncertain.

“Are you sure?”

The fact that he asks, makes sure this is what she wants gives her sudden courage. She knows that if she were to change her mind, he wouldn’t protest, wouldn’t guilt her. And that’s precisely why she lifts her remaining hand, offers it palm up with a slight smile.

The emotion blazing in Jellal’s eyes leaves her transfixed as he repeats his steps from the first gauntlet with the second. And when he kisses her second hand, places it on his shoulder, she’s the one to wrap her arms around his neck.

Next come the pauldrons, the two shoulder pieces coming loose with ease as he unbuckles the straps holding them to her chest piece. He smiles as he leans in, brushes his lips to each shoulder, grasping the tops of her arms, rubbing his thumbs along bare skin.

And again he pauses, repeats the caresses, feeling Erza tense at the first kisses, slowly relax as her body accepts that his touch is not threatening. How precious, how amazing that she trusts him so. 

Finally, his fingers deftly locate the buckles holding together her cuirass, undo them one by one. The final piece is by far the most crucial, the steel that covers everything vital.

Everything fragile.

Jellal holds her gaze as he lifts it from her shoulders, slips it off her arms. Then there is nothing left, not a single piece of metal or mail to hide her away.

And yet, when Jellal pulls her tight against his chest, wraps his arms around her and buries his lips in her hair, Erza has never felt more safe.


End file.
